Page 68 of Falling for Grace

Him.

“Not really,” I admit. “I mean, I’m happy. I’m glad I moved to America. I needed a fresh start. I have this bonkers roommate, Theresa, who is full of so much life, I question if she’s high half the time. I like my job, I work for NASA.”

“You always loved space shit.”

I laugh. “I know, right.”

“Wait, you used to bring that god awful space ice-cream. That stuff tasted like piss.” He laughs and he squeezes my hip.

“My job, it’s not like I’m an astronaut, because you know how much I hate flying and I wouldn’t go to space if you paid me. But I work in the back office with the HR department, which sounds boring, but someone has to make sure the guys on the space station get paid. And that Ice-cream was brilliant.” I tweak his nipples playfully and he smiles batting my hand away. “Now Mr Holder, the perfect gent, are you happy?”

“I love my job. I love it. It’s hard, it’s stressful, it’s messy, it’s long hours, it’s sometimes impossibly long and boring days, but I love it. Every film I’m on, every set I’m on, it’s a family atmosphere. Everyone is there because they love their art, and they want the finished thing to be the best it can be.”

I smile at his passion, because even though I felt him shrug, as I peeked up to watch him talk, his eyes have lit up like someone flicked a switch. “I just hate everything that comes with it. I can handle the interviews, but it’s the gossip, it’s the being watched at every corner, it’s the not being able to walk out and grab some milk without someone flashing a camera in your face… But unfortunately for me, you can’t have one without the other.”

“Have you ever thought about moving away from LA, take a step back from the public eye? I mean, if you aren’t in LA, surely you can hide away a bit better. Look at Jonny Depp – doesn’t he live in France because of the laws there or something?”

He laughs. “I think I’ll take some time out now,” he says, looking at me. I lean back on him, his arm wrapping around me. My head goes straight back to my favourite place.

My nook.

I lie there silently, listening to his heart beating, and take a moment as my thoughts move to his brother. “What’s your favourite memory of him?” I ask, running circles over his chest.

“Of Danny?”

“Yes, Danny, you plonker. Who else would I be asking about?”

He grabs my side and squeezes, causing me to squeal. “I think probably the first time he got drunk,” he says, chuckling.

I smile. “God, he was such a mess.”

“A mess! Grace, he pissed himself and was sitting right next to the toilet.”

I laugh.

“Do you remember when we used to make dinner?”

“Smiley faces, chicken nuggets and beans,” he says. “Dinner of kings.”

“He used to be in charge of the beans and would always forget to turn the hob on.”

His chest vibrates underneath me. “When are you flying back?” he asks and I kiss his chest. I can’t stop kissing his chest, touching his chest, his arm, his leg. Him.

“Monday morning, I think. You?”

“Sunday, although I could stay—my schedule’s been cleared. Could you?”

“Could I what?” I say, looking at him.

“Could you stay? I mean, would you stay? I just think I want to be here for Mum and, well, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying this moment right now.”

I sit up suddenly and put some distance between us. “This isn’t a thing, Brandon,” I say.

Pain flickers on his face at my reaction. “Jesus, Grace. Look at you. It’s like someone put a firecracker of regret up your ass.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, shifting uncomfortably. Silence spans the space between us.

His quiet voice finally breaks it. “Every day, Gracie, I wonder what if. Just like you. I know you do. Don’t sit there and pretend that you don’t. What if you hadn’t come that night? What if I had come back for you, fought for you after Dad’s birthday?”

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